


you belong with me

by navience



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Humor, Oblivious to Pining to Lovers, One (1) Mention of the Darkling (Derogatory), Soulja Boy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navience/pseuds/navience
Summary: You know the saying: Haste makes waste! That's why you should pine for your best friend for at least five years before doing anything about it.
Relationships: Genya Safin/Alina Starkov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	you belong with me

**Author's Note:**

> google tried to tell me i spelled suuuuuuck wrong while i was writing this. sorry if mal and david being boyfs doesn't make sense i just didn't want them to be lonely while i made their gfs fall in love w each other. sorry for writing the same fic 5394 times with various niche sapphic couples it's just literally The Only Trope. sorry for making sofas so topical in my fics. not sure why that keeps happening. i almost titled this "missed connections- hot girl with heretofore unseen eldritch powers break up with your boyfriend" so i apparently also have a problem with craigslist references. i'm a stingy, slightly paranoid 17 year old who has never bought a sofa or used craigslist. huh. anyway happy trailer day beloveds <3

“Does Genya seem… strange to any of you?” Alina asked, setting down her backpack, her lunch tray balanced precariously on her left forearm. “She’s been kind of distant lately.”

“Oh, hm,” said Nikolai noncommittally. Alina glared suspiciously at him. 

“I’m just worried about her, you know? Has she been talking to one of you guys? Is something wrong?” The rest of the group was suspiciously quiet. Mal was blowing bubbles with his straw in his carton of milk, avoiding Alina’s eye. Zoya was inspecting her nails. Nikolai was also inspecting Zoya’s nails. 

David lifted his head from his  _ History of Fashion in Ravka _ textbook, adjusted his glasses, and, in an effort to seem like a present and active friend, ruined Alina’s life forever.

“I think she’s super fine and normal,” he said. “Besides not being in love with you anymore.”

Alina dropped her tray, unappealing grayish vegetables splattering over the cafeteria floor. 

The rest of the group moaned collectively. Zoya threw her hands up in the air. Nikolai slammed his forehead down on the table. Mal attempted to aim the contents of his milk carton at David, but instead splashed Zoya, who immediately slugged him hard in the face.

“Genya’s not in love with me,” Alina frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Beats me,” David said, nonoffensively, dodging Mal’s attempts to cover his mouth. “Mal, babe, what are you— mmf, get off! No idea why. She just said ‘I’m super fine and normal, also, not in love with Alina anymore.’ And then she nodded a lot.”

“You must have misheard,” Alina frowned. “Zoya, don’t punch Mal in the face.”

"That was like, three minutes ago," Nikolai pointed out. Zoya punched him, except it was soft, and more like an aggressive caress. Everyone elected to ignore it.

"Zoya, don't punch Mal in the face."

Zoya punched Mal in the arm, harder than she had in the face. He remained impressively stoic. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m very strong.”

“Yes,” said Nikolai. “But so is she.”

“Genya isn’t in love with me, right?” Alina asked, feeling warm and fuzzy and desperately confused.

“Not anymore, she’s not,” David said. “But she definitely used to be. Like, a lot.” Alina let out a loud sob and covered her face in her hands. The three other teens stopped catfighting amongst themselves to stare at her in bewildered silence.

“What happened?” Mal asked, separating from the tangle of limbs to pat Alina’s back.

“Genya’s not in love with me, which I already knew, but then she was and  _ I missed it _ !”

“Huh?”

“ _ I’m _ still in love with Genya!” Alina gasped out, and buried her head in her arms, still shaking from the force of her sobs.

In the school bathroom, as Zoya tenderly wiped the remnants of her tears away, Alina stared into the mirror, her eyes red and swollen, her lashes clumped together. 

“Don’t worry,” Zoya ordered her. “You are so unbelievably going to get over this, you’ll see.”

Alina shook her head. 

“I missed my chance,” she moaned. “Everything is terrible, and awful, and also terrible. I’m going to cut my hair into bangs.”

“Whoa,” Zoya said, grabbing her by both shoulders and shaking her. “You are not going to get bangs. That is the last thing you should do in this situation.”

“Are we giving Alina bangs?” Genya asked, walking into the bathroom. “I can help. I think they would look good.”

And as she took in Alina’s doe-eyed, puppy-love,  _ gross-ass _ expression, Zoya couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of overwhelming doom that washed over her. 

Alina did look good with bangs. 

She noticed this a full three days after her hair had been cut, because she’d been busy basking in the feeling of Genya softly carding her fingers through her hair, of Genya leaning over her shoulder, murmuring  _ Do you like it? _ in her ear, of Genya’s scent floating around her because she’d used her shampoo after she’d cut Alina’s hair in long, wispy bangs that could be easily curled or pinned back. 

When she’d finally stopped wandering around in a dazed cloud of honeysuckle and citrus, she’d found that her white hair did look cute pinned up on lazy days and curled on other days (days she had class with Genya). She was used to having the redhead around, but she’d been noticeably absent during lunch period for a few days prior to Her Life Being Ruined, and despite Alina’s best efforts to catch her in class, she seemed to be actively avoiding her. 

Despondent, she’d spent an unusual amount of time eating ice cream from Mal’s fridge on Mal’s couch as she bemoaned her mistakes to him. 

“How was I supposed to know that when she kissed me on the cheek as a greeting and farewell she liked me? Or when she let me borrow her notes? Or when she always agreed to do my makeup when I asked her to? I thought she was just doing it to be friendly!”

“Alina,” he told her, his eyes sliding away as though he couldn’t bear to look at her. “My budget really cannot take this anymore.”

“I can pay—” she started, but he cut her off.

“And my boyfriend can’t either. So please,” he said. “In the name of friendship, and love, and getting laid, go cry on Zoya’s couch.”

Alina tried. She really did. 

“Get out,” Zoya told her flatly. “I don’t want you here.” Alina made puppy eyes at her. “Don’t do that.” Alina pouted harder, clasping her hands together and lifting her teary face in saintly supplication. “I hate you. Which romantic comedy do you want me to dig out of the depths of my aunt’s DVD collection?”

Alina beamed with the force of a thousand suns.

Unfortunately, Zoya only let her mope for so long. After Alina begged to rewatch  _ Music and Lyrics _ , which she insisted was thematically relevant because she had white hair and therefore looked old like Hugh Grant, Zoya snapped. 

“Do you think I spent this much time pining after Nikolai?”

“Yes,” said Alina.

“You’re right, damn you,” Zoya grumbled. “But at least I finally asked him out. You have to take the chance, Alina, because it’s clearly already wrecking your relationship. Once you two talk everything out, it will be fine.”

“I thought you were ‘casual, on-off again, probably off’?”

“The exact nature of our relationship doesn’t matter. Stop moping. Woman up.”

Alina stood, miserably, and shuffled outside, miserably, to go home and lie in bed (miserably) while she pondered. Miserably.

Pretending to not be in love with Alina was hard. Genya steepled her fingers and stared hard at her slim back, three rows in front of her in Physics. Alina was good at this kind of thing— women in STEM! Genya was not. Still, she had often lent Alina her notes while Alina daydreamed about who-knows-what.

Today, she was not taking notes. She stared hard at Alina’s back, as though her friend’s terrible posture would reveal to her the secrets of the universe.

Thinking back, she was certain she had done a good job of pretending she was no longer bound to Alina, heart and soul. When Mal had asked her how she was doing, she had responded normally, and when David asked if she was alright, she had reiterated that she was totally fine normally, and when Zoya had asked her why she was pretending not to be in love with Alina, she had said “Who?” and run away very quickly. 

She had been hiding from Zoya ever since. 

Unfortunately, this meant that she was now also hiding from Alina, because that was how friend groups worked. The last time she’d seen her was when they had gone shopping together, buying plants for Genya’s room and candles for Alina’s. Alina had bought a little cactus with a red flower and named it Genya, because it was “redheaded and perfect.” She’d chosen Genya a candle, too, tall and waxy and golden, and Genya had only lit it once so it would look lived in and natural but not sad and used up.

She sighed. She missed seeing Alina’s smile, the tilt of her eyebrows and the lift of her cheeks, the way her nose twitched up and her septum piercing shone. 

But that smile wasn’t hers to hold in her heart, and she prayed to whatever power was up there that she would emerge from this with that very organ intact.

“Hey,” she said casually, sliding into what had once been her usual spot at their lunch table. “How’s it cooking, good looking?”

Alina stared at her. Tamar, who had been absent due to a bad case of lesbianism, said “Fine.” Nikolai, trying to steal Zoya’s over-sugared chocolate chip cookie, smiled and waved, then recommenced his heist. Zoya slapped his hand down and shoved the entire cookie in her mouth. Genya winced and averted her eyes from what happened next.

“Not much,” Alina said oddly. “Anything new with you?”

“No,” Genya said. “Nothing at all.”

Things went back to normal, except they weren’t at all, and Alina and Genya never spoke unless they forgot that they were both pining hopelessly after someone who would never return their feelings. Then things got more awkward and Zoya was running out of ways to stop Alina from dying her hair. Genya herself had already cycled through blue, black, and red twice. 

So, actually, things were terribly fucked up on all counts.

Thank the Saints (not the Starless One, though, everyone hated him) for Friday night movie night.

Alina was getting very tired of Friday night movie night, which hadn’t been a tradition until four weeks ago, but was apparently not to be missed on pain of death. She’d attempted to skip, but Tamar had shown up at her house with an actual knife, which she assured Alina she wouldn’t have used, but that she made no promises for the future, in case Alina tried to skip again. Then they had driven to Genya’s, Tamar singing loudly along to the radio while Alina slumped in her seat and only half-mumbled along. Genya had willingly climbed into the back at knifepoint and Alina had been squeezed between her and Tolya. Nadia had, of course, been given pride of place in the passenger seat, while Tamar deftly handled the wheel of the creaky old truck.

“Please stop the music,” Genya said politely over the dulcet tones of an unmentionable mid-2000s pop song. “It’s terrible. I can list synonyms of bad if it’ll convince you.”

“No,” Tamar said sweetly, and turned it up. Alina wriggled a little bit so she could turn to smile at Genya, who relaxed instantly.

“I think it’s fun,” she said. 

“It is,” Genya agreed. “I think this is the greatest song in the world.”

“This is Soulja Boy,” Tolya said.

“Yes, you are!” Alina’s eyes curved into half-moons and she affectionately leaned into Tolya. Genya suddenly realized that she had always hated Soulja Boy more than anything, ever. 

That week’s movie was  _ Letters to Juliet _ , which was bad enough that Zoya and Nikolai would not ruin the movie permanently for anyone, but had Amanda Seyfried, which meant everyone who wasn’t Zoya or Nikolai could argue that it was actually a cinematic masterpiece. Somehow, though, Alina had left to get everyone more popcorn, and come back to find Genya very frownily occupying the seat next to the only seat left. Alina tilted her head at her, and Genya’s features relaxed and she made grabby hands for the popcorn.

By the end of the movie, Genya was mostly asleep, curled into Alina’s lap while Alina cried into her hair. 

“You’re insane,” Zoya commented. “That was terrible.”

“I know,” Alina said, and wept harder. “But wasn’t it touching? They thought they had a missed connection, b-but then, they found each other, and everything was alright.”

The room went silent. Groggily, Genya raised her head. 

“What did you think of the movie?” Tolya asked invitingly.

“Hggh,” Genya said, shutting her eyes, and tried to crawl further into Alina’s warmth. “Amanda Seyfried.”

“I agree,” said David, who had crocheted an entire sweater in the last two hours. Mal, wearing the sweater, concurred.

“Does anyone want to watch another movie?” Zoya offered. Everyone nodded. The last count was Nadia, asleep on Tamar’s lap, but it was assumed her snore meant yes.

Halfway through  _ The Autopsy of Jane Doe _ , Alina grumbled something into Genya’s hair.

“What was that?” She slurred, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“I hate horror movies,” Alina said. “They suuuuuck.”

Genya hummed. “I think they’re alright.”

“You were asleep,” Alina said. “Your opinion is null.”

“Yeah, well, I think you should sleep with me. Makes all movies better.” She didn’t realize what she had said until Alina had finished blushing, so bright red that it was visible even in the low light of the room. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

She sat up straighter, not wanting to make Alina uncomfortable. After a few seconds of dead silence, she turned back to Alina, expecting her to be staring as resolutely at the screen as she was. Instead, she made direct eye contact.

“I wanted you to,” Alina said, and Genya made a noise of surprise in her throat. Alina narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders, and it was the cutest thing Genya had ever seen. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Genya nodded, speechless.

When Alina pulled back, looking dazed, her hair pulled out of its braid, her lips bruised red and swollen, she rescinded her previous statement.

“That is definitely the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Genya said, and pulled her back in.

Kissing Alina was hot, and sweet, and Genya really wanted to know how the skin of her neck might taste. She kissed down her jaw, and licked over the column of her throat, and felt her pulse drumming, steady and strong, beneath her skin.

“Genya,” Alina gasped, and then she pulled back all the way, and Genya adjusted her eyepatch. 

“What?”

“What about the other—” Alina cut off, her eyes growing owlishly wide as she looked around the room. “Where’d they go?”

A few beats of silence ensued. 

“If you’re wondering where we are, we migrated to the kitchen, like, twenty minutes ago!” Nikolai called. 

“Don’t do anything gross on my couch!” Mal yelled.

“Too late,” Genya said, smiling secretly at Alina. 

“I heard that!”


End file.
